Benedict caught sight of Eloise mid-argument with a particularly pompous young gentleman and could not help the slow arch of his brow.
He approached with deliberate calm, hands clasped behind his back.
“Am I interrupting a philosophical debate, or has someone finally dared to challenge my sister’s superior intellect?”
His eyes flicked briefly to the suitor — assessing, unimpressed — before settling warmly on Eloise.
“Should I rescue him… or would you prefer to finish the demolition yourself?”